


The actual gift

by rafaholic



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 22:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21435493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafaholic/pseuds/rafaholic
Summary: Roger defeats Djokovic and gifts the Year End’s Number one to Rafa. But that’s not the most important thing of the night.
Relationships: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	The actual gift

He’d got his revenge. Wimbledon final had been avenged. He had beaten Djokovic. In straight sets. He had secured a place in the ATP World Tour Final’s semifinal. He had proved his haters wrong. And he had gifted the year end number one to Rafa. His Rafa. His beautiful man.  
After the Laver Cup in Geneva, he had the luck to be allowed to call Rafa his. And that thought had helped him to play one of the best matches of his year. Maybe the best. He was on court for himself, obviously. He would have wanted to win exactly the same way if Rafa hadn’t been in the mix. But he had been and Roger was so determined to do something for the two of them that the whole match had become easier.  
He could barely restrain himself from saying Rafa’s name during the on court interviews and press conferences.

“I’m sure Rafa was watching.”, he had said.

He was.  
In their hotel room. Waiting for him.  
Media stuff has never seemed so boring and long lasting before.  
He only wanted to go to Rafa, hug him and spend the night in his arms.

Just a couple of days earlier, Rafa had looked so defeated for his debut match against Zverev it had broken Roger’s heart. He had cried saying once again he had failed. He had gone on and on about how much he had disappointed his fans. Roger had dried his tears and hugged him all night long. The morning after, he had promised to himself he would have never allowed Rafa to be that sad again. He would have fought for him. And now he had kept his promise.

He opened the door of the hotel room carefully, looking forward to seeing him. He didn’t even have the time to enter the room that Rafa had already thrown his arms around his neck, hugging him tight.  
Roger just smiled.

“Hey, little one...”, he said, sweetly, hugging him back and inhaling his scent. It had been few hours and he was already missing it. Missing Rafa. He was going mad maybe. Fifteen years of slight touches at the net, secret gazes in locker rooms, unspoken sentences and now... it seemed like he could not do without Rafa anymore.

“Rogi...you were amazing! So perfect out there !”

Roger could hear Rafa’s heartbeat through the fabric of the Spaniard’s t-shirt and of his coat, which he hadn’t be able to get rid of still.

“Thank you.”, he just said. Then he slowly released Rafa from his embrace and looked him deeply in the eyes.  
“I fought for you.”, he added, whispering.

Rafa’s eyes wetted instantly, feeling Roger was being honest and those were not words said just to be said.  
He leaned in and kissed Roger, in a way that left both breathless.  
When they parted, the smile Rafa gifted to him was enough for the Swiss to be repaid of everything. He would have been ready to start the match again and win it again just for that smile.

“I’m so proud of you Rogi. You really were amazing. And you are in semifinal now!”

“I wish I could play you there though”

Rafa shrugged.

“I wish it too, no? But it’s not just on me, you know...”

“I know.”

“That first match... if I just...”

Roger shushed him with a sweet kiss.

“No more talking about that. You hadn’t time to recover from the injury. It can happen. You showed what you’re capable of in the next match.”

Rafa didn’t say anything and let the Swiss stroke his cheek.  
So Roger spoke again.

“And now you’re officially the year end’s world number one!”

Rafa smiled more genuinely now and, again, just by that Roger‘s heart skipped a beat.  
He really had problems, he thought.

“And who I have to thank for this?”, he teased. But Roger shook his head smiling lightly.

“You. Only you Raf. I may have secured this for you today but you’re the one who fought over the year to reach this goal. And you did it. You’re finishing the year as the world number one not due to my win against Nole. But due to your amazing tennis, your ability to come back from every possible negative situation, bad scores or injuries, your way to approach life.“, he said, while never ceasing to caress his skin.  
“Tennis has to be grateful to have you. Everyone should be grateful to have had the honor of having seen you play.”

Rafa took Roger’s hands in his.

“Are you?”, he whispered. His voice barely audible.

“Totally.”

“That’s the only thing that matters to me. I love you.”

Roger froze. It was the first time Rafa said it. He hadn’t said it himself yet.  
He wasn’t sure maybe. Or maybe he was but he was too scared to say it out loud.  
Hearing Rafa saying it, though, suddenly had made it all very clear.

“What did you say?”, he asked.

Rafa blushed violently and immediately lowered his gaze.

“I’m... I’m sorry, it just... it came out... I didn’t know I was going to say it, it’s just...”

Roger interrupted him by kissing him with all he had,so strong Rafa made a sound which was a mix of a moan and a surprised gasp.

“Don’t you dare apologize. Say it again...”

“Well, I...”, the Spaniard blushed again.Roger raised his chin and forced him to look him in the eye.

“Say it again, Rafa.”

“Yes, I mean it, I... I love you, Roger.”

“God...”

Roger seemed mesmerized by that beautiful creature that was before his eyes. So different from the man he was able to become when on court. He looked so fragile. So unsure.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel same thing, Rog... I know is very soon but...”

“I do. I do feel the same Rafa, God, I do. I love you like crazy.”

Rafa’s knees became suddenly weak and Roger’s strong arms had to be ready to prevent him from falling. 

“You do? You... really really do?”

Roger laughed sweetly.

“I really really do Rafa.”

The kiss that followed said for them all the things they couldn’t manage to say. It went on for a long time until their mouths were starting to ache. The parted a little and smiled simultaneously.

“Let’s go to bed? You tired after match.”

Roger pulled him again in a tight hug and placed an innocent kiss on his temple.

“Yes, my number one. Let’s go to bed.”

And that night, holding Rafa tightly in his arms, listening to the small sound of his breath, feeling it on his skin, Roger Federer realizes that the real gift it had been Rafa the one who had done to him.


End file.
